


routine maintenance

by Karturtle (karturtle)



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Character Study, FL4K probably has all the brain cells, FL4K's pack, Gen, Reminiscing, Robotics and whatnot, Swearing, a hint of FL4K/Ellie if you look for it. only a hint., also i know all their pets have canon names but for the purpose of this fic i have changed one, one of their beasts is literally named Bastard, this is actually spoiler free i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-20 04:46:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20669555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karturtle/pseuds/Karturtle
Summary: FL4K considers their pack, beast and human alike, as they settle in for the evening.





	routine maintenance

A quiet night during the chaos. Chaos that tagged along after the Crimson Raiders like a hungry rakk diving to pluck an eye out of a socket.

While they didn’t exactly sleep, a night in was appreciated once in awhile. FL4K’s pack certainly enjoyed it, human and animal alike, and it always put everyone in a better mood the next day. During these empty hours aboard Sanctuary III, FL4K had come to adopt a routine. It went like this.

Attend to their animal pack’s needs - feed, water, ensure that they were all satisfied for the evening. Unload guns from pack and set them aside for maintenance later. Carefully remove their clothing from their body. Sit down and begin plucking bullets out of metallic nooks and crannies. Run a diagnostic in the background to see what systems needed their attention. Perform basic repairs and patches where their shield had failed and attacks had pierced their metal chassis. Consider requesting Ellie’s aid with the more complicated repairs. Ignore their coolant systems beginning to pump faster at the notion. Apply oil to joints. 

That night, focusing on their tasks, FL4K wasn’t even keeping track of how long they’d been sitting there or what time it was.

Which was a lie, of course. But it seemed like such a human thing to say, and so they said it to themself. “I have not been keeping track of time for the last four hours and seven minutes.” They state to their small dormitory-esque room. 

Their Jabber flicks her tail, seemingly unconcerned from where she rests in her small hammock. FL4K nods to her. 

In reality, every single minute that ticked by was recorded, compressed into a file, and stored by internal processors. FL4K had endless memory banks, dating back to when they were first programmed and activated. Humans had something similar, they knew, but much flimsier. In fact, when FL4K could bring up the specific time, date, and log of various happenings, it seemed to unnerve their Vault Hunter companions. 

Understandable, they suppose. Humans, they surmised, mostly got by on vague ideas of what had occurred in the past. And that was only if their brains had determined the memory worth keeping. Otherwise, the human brain often warped it or purged it entirely.

An example. It goes like this.

Amara_ [designation.Pack."The_Siren"] _ would bring up something she’d done while they were on a mission together, mixing truth with various exaggerations and lies. Zane _ [designation.Pack."The_Operative"] _ would counter with his version of events, also filled with exaggerations, and it would directly interfere with the heroic tale Amara was giving. The two would proceed to argue loudly about what really happened while Moze _ [designation.Pack."The_Gunner"] _ only added fuel to the fire with unhelpful details.

FL4K would then try to end the argument - as they assume a good pack mate would - by explaining the exact specifics of everything that had happened within the appropriate time stamps.

Unfortunately, their attempts at diplomacy had a habit of making things worse.

Often, the other three would try and continue the argument with FL4K themself, denying their version of events, which irked them. FL4K’s memory banks were _always_ secure and nothing had been tampered with, and insinuating fault with them was the same as insinuating fault with FL4K themself. And so the argument would march onward.

Humans and their faulty memory. It annoyed them to no end. 

Bringing up these recollections was now annoying them in the present tense instead of the past, and they let out an irritated hum. Such a pointless noise was a novel habit they’d picked up from living creatures. Unless the situation required silence, a living being often made sounds to indicate what it needed or how it felt.

The hum caught the attention of one of FL4K’s companions. Their skag was nearby as always, practically laying on their feet. Bastard, as Moze had lovingly[?] designated him, was big and always somehow in the way. When they needed him most _ and _ when they needed him least, she said.

Like right now. 

FL4K had picked up one of their cloaks from the table they were sitting by, intending to apply it to their body once again. But Bastard had shifted his head to look up at FL4K, curious about the noise. In doing so, he accidentally speared his massive horn through the ragged garment hanging from their hands.

“Bastard.” FL4K said in acknowledgement, looking down at their skag. Not comprehending what he’d just done, Bastard lifted a leg to scratch at and remove the garment, only adding more cuts to the mess he’d just made. Not the first time he had put a hole in something he shouldn’t. 

Ever since Bastard had hit his growth spurt he’d had a hard time maneuvering his bulk around Sanctuary III. He accidentally clipped or jabbed things quite often. And speaking honestly, FL4K could sympathize with Bastard. It took them awhile to get accustomed to doorways and low ceilings, especially on a ship that was growing more cramped by the day. 

Sometimes on missions they could not get through the same entrance as everyone else and had to come up with a creative solution. The solution often involved taking the long way around and/or Amara punching something for them. 

But no amount of sympathy fixed their cloak, unfortunately, and FL4K let out an exasperated sighing sound. One of their favorite sighs, to be sure.

“The Quick Change only modifies the appearance of existing outerwear.” They explain patiently, removing the cloak from Bastard’s horn. “It does not make new clothes, and does not make repairs.”

Ignoring FL4K’s informative chiding, Bastard wiggles and writhes as he’s now fixated on the garment. Whenever he speared something on his horn, Bastard usually considered whatever it was to be his. It was much like the ‘finders keepers’ ruleset the Vault Hunters applied to most loot, but combined with the ingenious ‘no take-backsies’ claus. 

So it seemed Bastard now assumed he had full ownership of the cloak. To prove this, the skag grabbed onto the cloth with an iron grip and tried to tug it way from FL4K. Of course, FL4K wasn’t prepared to give up one of their few pieces of actual clothing, so their grip remained tight as well.

The cloak ripped in two. “Oh.” They say. They probably should have predicted that.

They anticipate this becoming a problem in the future. If they appear with their clothes _ more _ tattered than before, Zane might finally follow through with his threat about taking FL4K shopping for ‘better’ attire. They didn’t enjoy the thought. When Zane had mentioned it, FL4K suggested the two instead loot some bandit corpses for adequate clothing, as FL4K had always done in the past.

FL4K saved a screenshot of Zane’s expression in that moment, and they cherish it. They did not, however, cherish the theatrics and arguing immediately afterwards. FL4K explained that it saved time and expense. Zane wouldn’t stand for it, Moze declared it ‘pretty gross’, and Amara said ‘what she said’. 

Now all future clothing decisions would be under scrutiny from their pack, unfortunately. And they were not comfortable with their chassis showing. It would be one more thing to set them apart from humanity. And while they understood they would never fully achieve the real thing, they still tried to behave in a similar manner to ensure cohesion with their human counterparts.

Regardless of their predictions, they still had a problem to deal with in the present. Bastard was so excited about his side of the cloak that he immediately began tearing it into pieces and, naturally, started to eat them. FL4K held up their own piece to decide whether or not it could be of any further use to them. Perhaps it would serve well as a rag. 

Bastard was already eyeing it as he ate the last piece of his side, but FL4K was not feeling too generous with him at the moment. “I cannot salvage the mess you’ve made.” They chide, putting their new rag on the table next to them. “I will not reward you.”

At the tone of their voice, Bastard sank his head down and whined at them. Luckily, they had plenty of practice dealing with Bastard’s begging. “No.” FL4K says firmly. Bastard huffs and flops onto their side in defeat.

They would have to make do with their remaining clothes and hope their humans didn’t notice the missing piece. Their coat would mostly cover it up. As long as Bastard didn’t ruin anything else and nobody attempted to set them on fire, the dreaded ‘shopping’ would be able to wait awhile longer.

Bastard’s distraction didn’t take up much of their time, which was unfortunate. They still had many hours to wait until the other Vault Hunters woke up and they could begin the next routine. The entire pack, humans and all, would need to eat again before they could begin the next hunt.

They would join the humans for breakfast, of course, despite not being able to consume or process organic nutrition. Moze would refuse to speak with anyone, only communicating in grunts and hums until she had at least eight ounces of coffee in her system to fully recharge herself. Zane would tease her and her bedhead, asking if she got the required amount of ‘beauty sleep’ while he pulled a flask out and poured alcohol into whatever drink he’d acquired. Amara would defend Moze and go on to chide Zane about the alcohol. Zane would respond by insulting whatever rations Amara had as breakfast- most likely something ‘bland’ yet nutritious in order to stay in top fighting condition. 

FL4K would probably speak up then, commending Amara’s choices and dedication to maintaining herself and eating healthily. Zane would look disgusted at their input. Amara would be pleased, then go on to taunt Zane about his own breakfast which, 87% of the time, was a questionable cereal that was full of sugar and artificial dyes. FL4K would point out that he was not eating in a manner that provided the recommended vitamins and nutrients vital to humans and their long-term survival.

Zane would start getting defensive, predictably. But Moze would have finished her coffee at that point, and then tell them all something along the lines of ‘stop being so fucking obnoxious this early in the morning’. FL4K would inform her of the exact time, which usually didn’t qualify as ‘morning’ hours on the standard 24 hour cycle. She’d shoot them a look that implied that the information wasn’t necessary, and then steal Zane’s morning alcoholic concoction to take a swig.

However chaotic it got, they looked forward to this specific routine, categorizing it as a ‘bonding’ activity. With humans, such activities were important to ensure mutual satisfaction and happiness as a unit. But in the meantime, they’d simply have to wait. Perhaps put some of their internal functions into a sort of resting state and mimic the sleep that everyone seemed fond of. 

They didn’t enjoy the thought of being fully powered down for hours, personally. It made them vulnerable and the time would go to waste. But at the very least, they could ease back in their chair and give some of their processors a break as the pack slept.

**Author's Note:**

> hi i havent seen enough new vault hunter content so im doing it myself. im considering writing studies of the other vault hunters and exploring this new found family dynamic.
> 
> also, i love FL4K. so much. i too am nonbinary and love my pets. their relationship with their skag is heavily inspired by my own playthrough where bastard was CONSTANTLY in the way and kept pushing my co-player around/blocking them from loot. love you, bastard.
> 
> let me know what you think! comments are very appreciated. thank you for reading!


End file.
